Making it Bizarre and Weird – The Detective Girl
by 4200LittleBunny2
Summary: The twists and turns in life only seem unpredictable. Once you've sunk deep into a story of deception, will you be able to understand it all? Please join a young writer in a story that will intrigue you… the story of the 'Red-Eyed Detective Girl'.
1. Chapter 01 - The Detective Girl

Disclaimer: Vocaloid Kagamine Rin and Kagamine Len are owed by Crypton Future Media, voice provided by Asami Shimoda. The song this story is based on is 'Making it Bizarre and Weird, The Detective Girl' by HayakawaP (Plutonius). The English translation of the lyrics were made by Saru Subs (wingarea). Obviously I owe all above for the creation of this story.

Foreword: Most of this story is already written. I will update at a steady rhythm to keep you as a reader satisfied. In return, I would love to read your thoughts and speculations. I have an answer for every question, so do not fret to ask. If you have any questions after the ending at all… I haven't been plotting this story for years to have loose ends. I would absolutely love to hear your theories, really…

**…..::Making it Bizarre and Weird – The Detective Girl::…..**

Chapter 01 - The Detective Girl

It was a cold, dark afternoon in the middle of autumn. Small, irregular drops of water fell out of the gloomy sky. It was not enough to be called rain, but just enough to make the air around feel moist.

Walking through a narrow, abandoned alley was a young man. He seemed out of place with his fancy coat, neat pants and hat. This was not, after all, part of the city regular people liked to walk. Burglaries, rape and even murders were not uncommon in this area. Anyone with a wealthy appearance would only ask for trouble.

That this young man managed to cross this part of town without running into problems, could almost be called a miracle.

He stopped when met with the sight of an old, worn out building. The state of it was poor. Bricks were missing, a window was smashed and the door was severely damaged. One would presume such a building to be abandoned, if it wasn't for the small flickering light of a candle that burned inside.

His gaze travelled to the signboard that hung slightly tilted to the side. The painted words almost mocked the area they were in. No special names were added. It was a simple sign, bluntly showing the building's purpose. The words 'Detective Agency' in big red letters were not easy to miss.

One would question the owner's sanity to put a detective agency in a place where most crimes happen, but the young man wasn't picky. This is the place he'd been looking for, after all.

A loud bell rang as soon as the young man opened the door. The bell hardly seemed necessary; the loud creaking sound of the old door indicated an intruder well enough.

Surprisingly, the inside of the building was far cleaner than the appearance outside. There was only one large room and in it were a few pieces of furniture; a desk filled with pieces of paper, a phone and a typewriter, two chairs, a large bookcase taking up an entire wall, a coat rack and a small table that seemed to have no purpose.

There was no sign of anyone. That was strange in itself, since the door was left unlocked. In a neighborhood as this, it is very unwise to invite burglars in like that. Aside from that, he did have a scheduled appointment.

Hesitantly, the young man took a step inside. Taking off his damp coat and hat, he made the decision to wait for the owner's return. He turned around to close the door and looked in a pair of big eyes.

"Aarh!" he cried and jumped back.

A girl, that crawled out of her hiding spot observed him, staring at him with interest when his reaction was one of honest surprise. She took in the appearance of the young man; he was slightly taller than her with the same color blonde hair tied in a ponytail. Two blue eyes that stared at her as well, the shock in them just wearing off. A neat white shirt, black pants and a black waistcoat, gave the appearance of a reasonably wealthy young man. He even had a matching black tie. He was surprisingly small around the shoulder, not as broad and muscular as most other men.

When the young man recovered from the scare, he quickly analyzed the girl he just met as well. Short straight hair, a young woman with a body that didn't seem fully developed; in fact, he would give her no older than seventeen. The dress she wore was simple; a brown colored long sleeved dress. The most bizarre about the girl were her eyes. One was the a calm blue color, while the other was a bright, unnatural shade of red.

"I hope I didn't scare you," she giggled. The tone of her voice seemed to tell him the opposite.

"Why were you hiding behind the door?" he asked her.

A large smile spread its way on her face. "Was I?" she asked him instead. "Aren't you just jumping to conclusions?"

The young man's mouth slightly hung open at the counter answer and the strange girl continued. "You seem fairly sure. Of course I could have, as you say, _hid_ myself here in case some lowlife criminal barged in. _Or_, I had been standing in this position when you came inside, making it a mere coincidence. Perhaps even, I had been standing here the whole time, waiting for you…" she chuckled. "There are always different answers, but which one is the truth?"

"…Isn't that your job to find out, detective?" the young man bluntly stated.

The blonde girl slightly tilted her head. "…Very keen. I like you." Walking right past him, she took a seat on the large chair behind the desk. She folded her fingers and rested her chin on top of them, leaning forward to meet his eyes. "So, what is your name and tell me a little bit about yourself."

Without hesitation, the young man answered. He had been preparing for this job interview, after all. "My full name is Levon Ellard Newman. I am a nineteen years old free-lance writer and I have written about forty articles in the two years I've been employed. I am experienced in field work; I've written crime-related articles before, working together with the police –"

"Where do you live?" she interrupted.

The young man paused for a second, not quite understanding why that was relevant. "I am originally from Cambridge, but I've found a small hotel in London where I am staying right now. It's not too far from here, actually, it's – " The rest of his sentence died away as her laughter filled the air. It was a cold, chilling laugh, filled with mockery and amusement. The blonde man didn't move and his facial expression betrayed his confusion.

When the laughter died down, the young girl locked eyes with him and with a surprisingly serious tone, said: "Dear Mr. Levon, this is the second time you've died."

She smiled at him as he stared at her in utter bewilderment. "…What?" he exclaimed.

The blond girl raised from her seat and walked up to him, her arms casually folded behind her back. "The first time you died was the second you stepped into this seemingly abandoned place…" In a second, she stepped behind him and in one quick movement, raised her hands together and pounded him softly on the back. Startled, the young man quickly turned around.

"Dead," she simply said. "...if I had a knife on me." She spun around and walked backwards until her frame touched the desk. "The second time you've died, was the moment you told me your name. How many people with your name live in Cambridge, do you think? You have made it boringly easy by telling me your occupation as well."

"But this is a job interview!" the young man protested. "I have to tell these things!"

The girl smiled. "What makes you think I'm the_ real_ owner of this agency?" she softly asked. "…I could have been anyone, really." Her eyes narrowed slightly and the next words had a cold feeling to them. "_Never _tell anyone your real name."

The young man frowned and seemed nervous. "Then what happens if someone wants to know my name?" he asked. "Do I have to make up an alias or-"

"Len," she suddenly called. The young man tensed. "Levon Ellard Newman, L.E.N. Len. That will be your name from now on. It's casual, yet not too common and can't be traced back."

"…Alright," he agreed. "Then what do I call you, detective?"

The girl smiled mysteriously. "You can call me 'Rin'. Anyway, if you want to tag along, you shouldn't throw your curriculum on the streets. From now on, you're not even an official writer anymore. If anyone asks, you are my new assistant. Of course you'll still be penning down everything that happens."

"New assistant? What happened to your former assistant then?" he asked.

The girl twirled a lock of her hair. "She resigned."

Looking at her agency, he couldn't be surprised. "Alright," he agreed with her."Does that mean… you will hire me?" He couldn't help but sound hopeful.

The young girl paused at that moment, staring at him with a dubious look in her eyes, her finger still twirled around the lock of hair. It was as if his words had stirred a thought inside her he could only try to grasp. "…I will. For now, at least." She hopped on the desk, turning her attention to the scrambled pieces of paper. Picking up a stack, she started filing through them. "I know that you're searching for something worthy of a headline, but none of my cases are that interesting at the moment," she told him. "But don't worry, I am expecting something…" She lowered her gaze, her eyes glazing over for a second as if in thought. "…soon I think."

Her fingers brushed over the tip of something red underneath the pile of light colored papers, something that the young man hadn't failed to notice. And as a frown formed on his face, she suddenly turned her attention back to him.

"You will hear from me then," she told him cheerfully.

With that, the conversation steered towards its end. The loudly creaking door announced his departure from the building, as the young man left it with only the promise of a reunion. That was all the detective girl could give him at the moment and that was all he left the decaying building with.

The weather had worsened and it had started to drizzle. He straightened the collar of his coat, hoping not to arrive at the hotel soaked. He had forgotten to bring an umbrella when he left it this morning and was regretting that now.

Taking his chances in the rain, he stepped onto the uneven tiles of the street. When he glanced back at the building, he was instantly met with a penetrating stare. The candle light illuminated the appearance of the detective girl, her figure easily spotted through the broken window. And for a moment, he paused. Alone, with only the sound of rain clattering in the background, the two of them exchanged a glance.

He waved at her and she broke into a smile.

They would meet each other again.

* * *

Days started to turn into weeks. While the strange promise of the detective girl lingered, there wasn't any news from the detective agency. Plenty of crimes were still happening, spread across the newspapers. Now and then he read her name in some small case she had solved, somewhere in a tiny corner of the page. The cases she was mentioned in, seemed as uninteresting as she had claimed. It went from petty theft to a missing child, who was eventually found stuck in the basement of a neighbor. The only thing that surprised him, was how fast she solved these cases. They weren't hard, heck, even the police hardly bothered themselves to work on these simple mysteries. Still, the strange detective girl solved them in a matter of hours, solving one case and moving straight to another.

When six weeks passed the young man, as of now called Len, started to grow restless. He spend hours at night worrying about the possibility that she wouldn't search contact with him again. Pondering on what he should do if she doesn't call him. She really was one peculiar girl and he couldn't tell what she was thinking.

At one night, at roughly two o'clock in the morning, his waiting was finally rewarded… when his blankets were yanked away.

Her one red eye nearly glowed in the darkness, as his widened blue eyes met hers.

"Get up," she simply commanded.

The young man desperately tried to cover himself up, as he had been sleeping in only his underwear. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment when he reached for his clothes. "Wh-what are you- how did you get in here?" he stammered, putting his blouse on.

The girl didn't give him an ounce of privacy as her sharp eyes followed his every move. Her silence was nerve-racking and the young man felt himself grow uneasy. It was as if she was looking at a criminal, the way her eyes blazed.

Her fingers brushed over his blouse and he felt a shiver run down his spine when she stepped closer. The pale moonlight shone through the opened window, lighting up the dark room. Some of her blonde hair colored gold and Len couldn't help but blush as the girl started to close the buttons. The scene was intimate, something he hadn't expected to happen. It wasn't a common thing that a man and a woman were alone in a bedroom, standing this close together. All the questions that had lingered a moment before, faded. Even her expression softened.

"You really are careless, aren't you?" the soft whisper barely reached his ears, but this time, the words weren't harsh or accusing. "Leaving the window open like that…" She looked up at him, their faces only a few inches apart. She smiled, but it was a bright smile and for a moment… he thought she was beautiful. "You really fooled me well." In less than a second, she had the object she'd been searching for.

It's silver shine was almost blinding as she held the long sharp knife in her hand. Still standing close to him, the tip of it rested on his chest.

"You weren't sleeping at all and you heard me enter this room," she stated, twirling the knife around. "Your even breaths were too close after each other. You were holding this knife with your left hand, tucked underneath the pillow and tried to hide it when you reached for your clothes."

She took a step back and held the knife in the light of the moon. "Quality," she observed, the hem was decorated and the blade was silver. "Expensive. Sharp. Were you waiting for me with this?" she mused.

"NO!" the young man loudly exclaimed. His cheeks, if possible, went redder. "I would never actually use it." His hand rested on his forehead and he exhaled loudly, before sitting down on the side of the hotel bed. "Listen…" he announced, meeting her gaze. "I always carry it with me. I've had a rough experience a while back… It's true, I did hear you come in. I thought you were a criminal. This town seems full of them. I didn't want to scare you, so I tried to hide it."

Taking his hand, she placed the knife back in it. Suddenly the grip on his wrist tightened and he winched. Her eyes seemed to light up, her stare cold and penetrating. "I want you to pay attention now," her low voice rang through the room. "I do not like secrets. Surely you can understand this, since I am a detective… And as one, I won't be lenient with lies. Be honest with me, or keep your act together. If I find anything else, my dearest _Levon_… I promise that I won't be this forgiving."

Widened blue eyes stared back. With that, she released him and the young man held his painful wrist. "…I'm sorry," he apologized.

She turned his back on him. "Forgiven," she huffed."The rest of your curriculum was flawless. Now, I didn't come here without reason, so put your pants on."

The young writer immediately complied; it was awkward standing around half dressed. But even when she wasn't facing him, he noticed that she was still watching him through the mirror. "This room is on the third floor…" he realized. "How did you climb through the window that quietly?"

The detective girl's gaze narrowed. This probably didn't help her already bad mood.

When he put on his shoes and started tying the laces, it was clear that she wasn't going to give him an answer. Despite of that, he wasn't willing to give up this easily. "Then what is so important that it can't even wait until tomorrow? It's the middle of the night, if you weren't aware of that."

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips. "Fine. We need to travel to Nottingham's castle before dawn. I received word that a crime will be committed at the grand ball tomorrow night."

Len's blue eyes widened, pausing in his actions. "Really?" he asked. That sounded interesting enough to make the papers. "I've never been to a castle before."

She shot him a dirty look. Understanding the meaning, he quickly finished his laces. The detective girl didn't waste any time and unlocked the door by moving the bolt, just as he reached for his coat and his few belongings. He had the feeling that he wouldn't be spending the following night here…


	2. Chapter 02 - The Red Letter

_Author's Information Note_:

For the continuation of an original flowing story, most of the characters names are changed. But I have made it easy for you to figure out the identity of their Vocaloid representation.

* * *

Chapter 02 - The Red Letter

The ride towards Nottingham by carriage was long and cramped. His knees kept bumping into the detective girl's, making him apologize more often than necessary. Even with the coat he was wearing, it was a chilling night. Since he was shivering, he wondered if she wasn't cold. She only seemed to wear a brown detective cape and hat beside her dress, the material thinner than his. Yet, she didn't seem affected by the cold temperature at all. It was courtesy to offer a man's coat when a lady was cold, so he swallowed his own desperation for warmth.

She laughed.

"Look at you!" she exclaimed. "I think you would freeze if I take you upon that offer. I'd nearly offer you my own coat, pathetic as you look right now."

Alright, so he was wrong in that. The person in front of him is definitely not a lady.

He wrapped his arms around him, embarrassed by his attempt to be polite. He decided to switch subjects. "This case… how did you get it?" he asked her.

"Reputation," she replied casually.

"Really?" his voice mocked her. And she sharply found his gaze, her eyes narrowing in silent allegation. "As I recall, you have been in business for five months now and your previous cases seem nowhere near that important," he announced.

She looked at him skeptically, the silence thickening between them. "You've investigated me," she concluded.

"Of course. After you hired me," he replied. "I am a writer. We're naturally curious."

"…Well, what else do you know?"

The young man folded his arms together, a frown appearing on his face as he started to sum everything up he came to discover. "You're a small organization plundered underneath the bigger detective agencies in England, who have more experience then you do. You usually take the smaller police cases to build a reputation and to pay the rent," he started telling. "Other agencies know you as the 'the red-eyed girl detective', a nickname that once started as an insult to your age and gender. Most other detectives dislike you, but mostly for your sharp attitude."

She continued to gaze at him with her eyebrow raised and for a moment he hesitated, before he decided to state exactly what had been bothering him. "Your assistant was named Nerill Akery. She never resigned. She disappeared over two months ago." The detective girl's eyes flashed dangerously, but the young man felt that he needed to continue. If he didn't voice this, it would hang between them for the rest of their cooperation. "There are rumors that you two… never got along," he voiced. "That you might know more abou-"

Without warning, he was roughly yanked forward, her fingers clutching the collar of his coat tight. He felt his heart leap in his chest when she pulled him close to her face.

"Don't you _dare_…" she threatened. Her narrowed eyes nearly glowed in the darkness of the night and he felt her warm breath on his face. "Don't you dare say another word… You will _not_ mention that girl in front of my face again. Do I make myself clear?"

His wide eyes stared back at her and he found himself nodding stiffly in response. Her grip slowly loosened, allowing him to take a shaky breath. With one last intimidating stare, she returned him his freedom.

She turned her head away from him, her lips tightly pressed together. He found himself looking anywhere but the detective girl as well, his heart still racing at what just occurred. With each passing moment filled with silence, it became more and more evident that he wouldn't receive an apology.

It started to rain outside, something common in autumn. It was more of a blessing than a curse. He shifted his attention to the window, watching random raindrops stick against the glass. His frustration with the detective girl's behavior lessened as the minutes passed and after a while, he started to forget his anger. The uncomfortable quietness inside the carriage took some time to get used to, but as the hour passed, he started to relax his tense shoulders.

He listened to the small sounds audible around them and started focusing on them alone. What filled the air was the sound of rain clattering against the windows, an occasional snuff from the horses and the sound of the wheels of the carriage through the muddy ground. It was rhythmic and with slowly, he started to feel more at ease.

Along with this feeling of assurance, came the fatigue that has been plaguing him these last few weeks. The lack of sleep only now seemed to gain in on him. And as his eyes fluttered shut, surrounded by these quiet little sounds, a feeling of relief wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

"Wake up." He flinched at the sudden movement on his shoulder, shaking him awake. The first thing that he noticed, was how bright it suddenly was. The sun had already risen and he was vaguely aware that the carriage had stopped moving. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust to the light. It was morning already? He still felt drowsy as he wondered how long he'd been sleeping.

"Oh _come on_," he heard her complain, her hand still shaking him. He rubbed his eyes, in an attempt to feel more awake. The detective girl was already with one foot out of the carriage and expected him to do the same. Groggily, he slowly moved his body, yawning as he made his way outside… and gaped at the huge castle in front of him.

"Wonderful, you're awake," Rin said, yanking his arm and dragging him to the front door. He couldn't help but stare at his surroundings, barely noticing how roughly she pulled him inside.

The castle's inside were even more impressive. It was incredibly big and filled with rich paintings, statues and golden ornaments. Multiple crystal chandeliers hung on the high ceiling of the main hall. The floor they walked on was made out of white marble and the walls were painted like the sky. He truly couldn't keep his eyes off it.

"Stop drooling" Rin warned, squeezing his arm once, as she dragged him through the entire hall. She knew that he wouldn't be moving on his own if she let him go now.

"Welcome, detective," a woman's voice rang, warm and sweet like a spring day.

Wearing a silky peach-colored dress, stood a woman, many would find more beautiful than the expensive jewels she wore. Her teal hair was flowing behind her like water, some of its strands braided and tied up together. Her eyes were like the river, calm and delicate. She had an amazing natural beauty and must have broken a lot of hearts in her life. Next to her stood a tall man in a neat suit wearing a pair of glasses. He was no doubt the butler.

"Millina Vanquost," Rin acknowledged.

The young woman smiled gracefully. "Not anymore."

"Ah, I see… You got married after all."

Len blinked, looking from the detective girl to the young woman. "You met before?"

The blonde girl almost seemed to tense. "In an old case," was her quick response.

"I believe proper introductions are in order," the high, velvet voice of the teal haired woman spoke. "My name is Millina Callisford-Vanquost, lady of this castle. Please call me by my first name." She smiled at the young man. "May I ask for your name, good sir?"

"A-ah," Len stammered, hesitating for a moment, almost spilling out the name she had forbidden him to use. "It's Len, I-"

"He is my new assistant," the detective girl answered for him. "He will write down anything important regarding the case, if that's not too much trouble for you."

Millina laughed, her voice soft like a chime bell. "I do not mind at all. This young man seems very delicate, I am fond of him already."

Len blushed and Rin rolled her eyes. "Great. Now, I need to see that letter."

"Straight to the point as always," Millina said, signaling her butler, who handed her the dark red envelope. Len held his breath at the appearance.

The girl detective accepted it with her gloved hands and started analyzing the envelope, not yet reaching for the letter inside. She held it above her head for a moment, her eyes narrowed in concentration. She observed the broken wax seal. After only a good minute of studying, she carefully reached for the letter inside.

He had no idea what she was looking for, but he didn't want to interrupt her. Silently he grabbed his own notebook and pen, already writing a few things down. He was just about to pen down the appearance of the strange red envelope when a loud laughter send chills down his spine.

The red eyed girl detective was laughing like a drain as she clutched the piece of paper. …Had she discovered something? "What is it!?" he couldn't help but shout and her laughter died down instantly, as if the joke suddenly wasn't funny anymore.

She turned her head and with a wide smirk, looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "It's a _fake_," she grinned.

Millina took a step forward. "It is?" she exclaimed.

The detective girl then reached in her own coat, revealing another red envelope. He quickly realized that it was the same piece of paper he had seen in her office weeks ago. He hadn't given it much thought back then, but now…. "This case died out years ago," Len breathed. "How did you... shouldn't this be under the supervision of the police?"

"I think you can tell the difference between them yourself…can't you, my assistant?" the detective girl told him instead. The corners of her lips had spread into a sharp smile and her eyes lingered for a moment as she handed both letters to him. As if she was personally challenging him.

At first glance, the two envelopes looked exactly the same. The complex pattern of the wax that had once sealed them off… identical. Both letters were of a thick, rich paper and handwritten with black ink. Like the rest, the handwriting seemed…

"Found it yet?" her voice mocked him.

He analyzed the handwriting. The letters looked quite the same, but… somehow the letter 't' was written with an upwards movement in the 'real' letter and in the 'fake' letter, it stayed horizontal. Was that everything, really?

"The letter 't' is different," he muttered. He started reading through the letters, something he hadn't done yet. He had searched for something visible first.

The real letter was actually addressed to '_My_ _dearest detective girl_'. While it was an intimate addressing, he put it aside for a moment and read the rest.

~ _Most apologies for the wait. Your next case will present itself shortly. For you, I sincerely hope that it will be able to capture your interest~_

There was no name or signature left underneath. He quickly read the second letter.

_~ Tomorrow night, a murder will be committed here. Can you stop the crime before it is too late, detective? ~_

"It's strange," he concluded, his eyes narrowing at the second letter. "I don't know how to explain it… It isn't the message itself, but the feeling I get when I read it."

He paused for a moment, looking up to meet the detective girl's eyes. "The first one is affectionate. The second letter is much more reserved. Why would he address you in an intimate way at first, only to create more distance in his second letter?"

Rin's lips spread in a subtle smirk. "You failed to miss one vital clue," she told him. "The candle wax is of a different structure. But not bad for a first attempt."

He blinked, wondering if he should be grateful or feel insulted. He took a closer look at the broken white seal on the back of both envelopes. He had a hard time trying to see the difference in structure, but after a few seconds he noticed the grained texture.

In the meanwhile, the detective girl addressed Lady Millina. "I cannot help but notice all those white candles you seem to have in this hallway… Are they preparations for tonight's ball?"

The teal haired lady seemed taken aback by that. "Why, yes… We did purchase them to light later this evening. We usually have blue candles, but my husband wanted a change of décor for this special occasion."

The writer couldn't help but notice how the detective girl's eyes lightened up. "I see…" she replied smoothly. "That is interesting. I would like to know when they arrived and how many you have purchased. If I understand correctly, these are the first white candles in your possession… they haven't been lit once?"

The lady exchanged a nervous look with the stoic butler, who then cleared his throat and answered the questions his mistress wasn't sure of. "On September the twenty-first, my master has let me order three hundred and twenty four identical white candles to replace the candles of the chandeliers. They arrived on October the fourth. We kept them stored in their original boxes until we started decorating the castle yesterday evening after my master and mistress went to bed. They are still unused."

"Three hundred and twenty four is certainly a specific number," Rin mused.

"The five chandeliers in the main hallway here need thirty-six candles each. The larger three in the dance room need forty-eight a piece. Together, they make the exact number of three hundred and twenty four, madam."

There was a childish smile on the detective girl's face. "And did you count them?"

The butler hesitated then, readjusting his glasses before answering. "No, madam, we did not count them. The boxes were still intact and we didn't miss a candle during our preparations."

"We found the letter yesterday around four in the afternoon," Lady Millina explained.

"Then it's a coincidence," Len concluded. "If the boxes weren't opened before last night and none of the candles were missing, the wax on the seal comes from somewhere else. White candles are common to have."

Rin met his gaze. "That's dreadfully naïve of you."

The writer froze on the spot.

"I want one of those candles. Right now, actually," she commanded.

The butler eyed his mistress, who then gave him her timid approval. He spun on his heel, walking away with long, even steps to retrieve one of the candles. Millina parted her lips to address the detective girl, but suddenly found her vanished from her side.

Even Len, who had taken this chance to retrieve the notebook from his pocket, was alarmed by the quiet disappearance of the girl in question. She had taken quick steps to catch up with the butler, disappearing around the corner just when he lifted his head.

"But… he…" the lady stumbled, perplexed. "Would come… right back."

What could she be thinking, making such an unpredictable move? With his notebook clutched tightly in his hand, he needed to take a small sprint in order to find his way back to her. He didn't want to miss any vital parts of the investigation. The sharp clicks of high heels echoed through the hallway, indicating that Lady Millina was close behind him.

They found the detective girl in the middle of the grand hall, smiling at the ceiling where one of the grand chandeliers hang. With forty-eight candles and decorated with at least a hundred shining pieces of crystal, it truly was an impressing sight. The butler was already retrieving the steep ladder from the corner of the dance room, not batting an eye to the audience he had. He proceeded his orders by climbing the ladder.

"The third candle at the second row, next to your left hand, please!" the detective girl called up. Len could only raise his eyebrow at the detailed command. "What does it matter what candle he gives you? Aren't they all the same?" he asked.

"How simple-minded…" she commented softly. "If our culprit is this butler, he could have easily prepared a decoy candle. I won't allow my investigation to be disrupted by something that could be this easily avoided."

He let out a small breath. That actually made a lot of sense.

"Light it," she demanded as soon as she obtained the requested candle. With a nodded approval from his mistress, the butler did what he was told. With the candle still firmly in her hand, she watched the flickering flame, waiting patiently for the wax to melt. Giving him the opportunity to write a few words down.

At least a minute passed in anticipation and he had quickly penned down everything that happened so far, including the different structure of the candle wax. In his notebook, he had collected all the details that had passed by. He would be able to change it into a fully detailed story as soon as there was enough time.

Satisfied for now, he lifted his head. And witnessed an accident about to happen.

He clasped her hand out of instinct, the force of it startling the detective girl, tilting the candle to the right. The melted wax instantly dripped on the floor.

"Careful!" he yelled at her, angrily meeting her surprised eyes. He took the burning candle from her hand, holding it out of reach. "You were about to burn yourself!"

She looked taken aback at this. "You're exaggerating. It's only wax."

"_Hot _wax," he corrected her. He felt his heart rate quicken when he noticed the way she clutched her hand against her chest. "…Wait, you aren't hurt, are you? Did any of it touch your skin?"

At this, her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips in irritation.

This lack of response only made his concern grow and he reached for her hand, something she didn't seem to appreciate at all. "Stop it!" she raised her voice.

"Let me see your hand!" he demanded instead, struggling to reach for it.

She raised her arm, glaring at him. "You're acting ridiculous, let go!"

Suddenly, the sound of laughter filled the air, the light-hearted sound creating such a contrast to their heated discussion, that the both of them stiffened.

Lady Millina was watching them both with an warm smile on her face. Her lightly-colored eyes contained an amused sparkle that made the writer's cheeks flush instantly. He only now realized how overly protective he had reacted.

"You two are absolutely adorable," the lady commented affectionately.

The detective girl huffed, yanking her hand back from his slacked grip. "…I'm not hurt," she muttered angrily, her own cheeks heated in embarrassment.

He glanced at her averted gaze, before nodding stiffly. "…Alright. Good…"

The flame had gone out in their struggle, but the detective girl didn't seem to mind when she circled the small puddle of wax they had left on the floor, sinking through her knees to observe it closer. It had already cooled down and taken form. "It's the same," she told them. "It's structure is rougher than the candle wax on the real letter, quite easy to tell."

"The second letter isn't written by that serial killer then," Len concluded.

She nodded. "It seems that way, doesn't it?"

The lady of the castle breathed a sigh of relief. "So it was a hoax after all."

"Oh no, in fact, it's worse," the detective girl replied, an amused smile on her face. She gracefully lifted herself up. "The threat was genuine alright. Whoever has written this letter, has the full intention to commit a personal murder and place the blame on a rather well-known serial killer. Despite the fact that he hasn't been active for over three years, most of the detectives would instantly link this letter back to him."

Lady Millina looked devastated, her face paling at the news. "I… it's impossible to cancel the ball now. The letters would arrive too late. Anyone of them could be…"

"Then all we can do now, is prevent this murder from happening," the detective girl announced. "To do that, I will need the names of every person who had walked in and out of this castle from October the 4th until yesterday afternoon."

The lady slowly blinked. "You… can't suspect any of my…"

"With all due respect, everyone in this castle is a suspect at this point."

That created a thoughtful frown on the lady's lovely face and she started searching through her memories. "My husband, of course and little Julie. His brother in law and his wife have been staying over these past two weeks. Our family friend arrived around the same time as well… Let me see, I have twelve maids, a gardener, a chef and my butler… Myself included, there would be twenty-one of us."

Rin smiled. "No one else has visited, aside from us?"

"No, not at all."

"That sounds about perfect."

* * *

"Don't trust anyone," were the first words she spoke when they entered the guest room assigned to him. Her eyes were strict as she leaned against the closed door, watching him. He dropped the suitcase on the bed and opened the lid.

"The culprit is someone in this castle and we can't tip them off," she warned him. "You're not allowed to share any information regarding the case to anyone. The more friendly and nice they are, the more reason you have to be suspicious of them. They often have much too hide behind that smile…"

The writer momentarily paused in his actions. "You still can't prove that anyone outside of the castle hasn't used the exact same candle. Besides, I'm afraid I don't agree with that statement," he told her. "There are plenty of people who are genuinely nice to others… I can't even imagine someone like Lady Millina hurting anyone."

The detective girl looked at him, before breaking into a smile. "Oh, that's right," she said, lifting her chin. "You fancy her."

His eyes widened by her statement and he frowned when her smile only grew larger at his reaction. "That's not my point at all," he protested. "I don't li-"

"Don't bother," she interrupted him, holding her hands up. "I don't mind, so you don't have to defend yourself. You're clearly not the first one that finds her attractive. She is obviously very beautiful, but she's also married and has a child. The sooner you pull your head out of the gutter, the better."

His eyes narrowed and he averted his gaze, staring down at the suitcase."She's…" he muttered below his breath. "… not that wonderful."

She rolled her eyes, placing both her hands in her side. "I'm not blind, Len, so don't pretend that she's not the type any man would fall for."

Sharply, he turned towards her, pinning her between him and the door, his arms at both sides of her head. Her eyes had widened, her folded arms now in front of her chest almost protectively. She hadn't expected a move like this.

He stared down at her and she stared up, confusion in her round eyes. She felt trapped, but not by his arms. She felt her heart beat faster and her lips twitched as the normal remarks she had somehow died away."W-what?" she hesitantly said.

With a single movement, he removed her detective hat and leaned in. Her hair was messy, she glared at him and her eyes were two different colors, but he couldn't help but think once more that she looked absolutely beautiful.

"Like that," he said. "When you're like that, you're very pretty as well."

Her cheeks went red. Whether it was out of anger or embarrassment was left to be discussed, when she harshly shoved him away.

"Hmph… I don't appreciate you making advances on me," she said coldly.

"Actually," he laughed. "I was just complimenting you. I wasn't about to kiss you if that was what you were thinking, _detective_."

Her eyes narrowed. He knew he had struck a nerve.

"But I meant it," he said, a lot more serious this time. "You're pretty in your own way. Don't ever feel like you're worth less in comparison."

"Well, _thanks_," was her reply as she snatched her hat from the ground. "Next time, I don't need a demonstration with it."

He shook his head, smiling as he walked back to the bed to unpack. He carefully folded the clothes he had quickly stuffed into his suitcase. He had thrown them in carelessly and he was glad they weren't too wrinkled.

It didn't took long for him to notice that the detective girl showed no intention to leave. She was still leaning against the door, simply observing.

After a few minutes in silence, he slowly started to feel uneasy. "Do you… need anything else?" he asked.

She immediately responded. "When you're done, I'd like to bring both of our empty suitcases back to the carriage."

He looked at her for a moment, before raising his eyebrow skeptically. "Why would you walk all the way back for that?" he asked her. "It seems rather pointless if we're going to need them later. Besides, we have plenty of space to keep it in our rooms."

She tensed, her eyes widening slightly before she redeemed herself. A small chuckle came from her. "You're right. I'm just so used to bringing it back to the carriage in my other cases. I don't usually spend the night."

He smiled back. "I understand. Do you have a room nearby?" he asked as he walked towards the closet, putting a small pile of clothes into it.

"Right next to yours," she answered. "I asked them to place us close together, just in case anything happens in the middle of the night. It would be bothersome to search for you then."

He closed the empty suitcase, shoving it underneath the bed. "I appreciate it," he told her. "Everything, really…" He paused for a moment, taking a step in her direction. "Thank you for hiring me… and giving me the opportunity to write this story."

"The pleasure is mine," she replied, matching the warmth of his smile. "I must say that I've missed an extra pair of hands." She spun around, her hand on the doorknob, before pausing. "I'm going to unpack in my room now. Will you come with me?"

He looked surprised and his facial expression quickly changed to an apologetic one. "You know that it isn't possible…" he replied. "You're a lady. For me to look into your belongings is… well…."

Her smile fell. "I don't have anything to hide."

He hesitated for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I can't…"

She sighed softly, before opening the door. "I'm back in two minutes," she muttered. Before waiting for a reply, she left the room.

He blinked at the closed door. Walking back to the bed, he shook his head. She was such a strange girl…


	3. Chapter 03 - The Challenge

Chapter 03 - The Challenge

It was not until the early afternoon, that the both of them met the other residences of the castle. Despite being terribly busy with the final preparations for the grand ball, the detective girl managed to acquire a private conversation with each servant individually. The butler, gardener and chef didn't notice anything amiss, as did none of the twelve maids.

Each time, she asked the same questions in a different way and commanded Len to write down the facts that were continuously confirmed. It resulted in the following tale: The letter was found yesterday in the late afternoon. The three guests of the Master and Lady were already staying over for a week, having arrived on the 2ndof October. The white candles for the ball arrived two days after their arrival. After that delivery, no letters or telegrams had been brought to the castle. No one had visited the castle between October the 4th and October the 9th.

The detective girl's hand clasped over his when he tried to pen down that the daughter, Julie Callisford, had been the one who found the letter in the middle of the ballroom. 'There is no way we can confirm that as a fact," she had told him.

They soon met the acquaintances of the Callisford family. The brother of the Master was named Gaillard Callisford, a tall muscular man with a smooth voice and an even smoother way of words. His purple hair was of ridiculous length, tied together with a strip of ribbon and falling down the length of his back. Few men manage to grow hair of such length as it just isn't practical. His hairstyle alone radiated a status of wealth, something the clothes he wore only accentuated. Beads and pearls were sewed on the lines of a perfectly fitted jacket and the rich cotton blouse that was visible underneath it, contrasted nicely with the dark color of the uniform. His eyes were kind as he smiled upon the detective girl, taking her hand between his larger ones and thanked her for coming.

The lady next to him seemed just as proud and refined. Her long cherry blossom-colored hair was braided in a complex French braid, decorated with pearls and fresh flowers. A long beige dress with stuffed up shoulders was tight on the waist, making the skirt fall wide. Her voice was, when she introduced herself as Lucia Callisford-Vincostre, low and mature, yet still very feminine. Her sky blue eyes radiated intelligence and pride.

Lady Millina's personal friend eyed more free-spirited. The lady who introduced herself as Gillium Noverin, was a cheerful one who liked to talk, but did manage to remain her poise and grace as a lady. She didn't interrupt when a man had the word and she formulated her words carefully and very polite.

Her bright orange dress suited her open and prominent presence. A matching hat with a white lotus flower sat upon her short leaf-colored hair. Two longer strands reached her shoulders, while the others didn't go further than the length of her face. She was, something that was unusual for her age and status, unmarried. They learned that she has a betrothed, but on the other side of the Northern Sea.

When they finally met the Master of the castle, Keaton Callisford, the first thing the detective girl noticed was that he was a lot more reserved and distant than his brother. When he shook her hand in politeness, his deep blue eyes lingered a second longer than necessary. They were, like his hair, the color of the sea. Just like the sea he eyed beautiful, but also cold and unpredictable. The coat he wore was made of the finest material and also heavily decorated with sapphires, beads and pearls.

His daughter, Julie, was at her age well-spoken and polite. She was a perky little girl who even managed to make her stiff father smile. Her brown hair was divided in two pigtails, bouncing up and down when she walked. The dress she wore was a bright red color and reached to her ankles. The little girl didn't stay long. When she finished her lunch and the detective girl had asked her the necessary questions, she was immediately taken back to her room by one of the maids.

Len tapped the end of his pen against the notebook. Of course no one had seen anything suspicious. He wasn't allowed to write down any speculations, so he took that moment to take a small break, reaching for a glass of water.

"Well then…" The detective girl raised from her seat, capturing everyone's full attention with just those simple words. Different colored eyes gazed at each adult individually, her lips spreading into a keen smile. "Tonight, as you may have heard, there is the possibility that a serial killer will enter this castle."

Len nearly spat out the water he'd intended to swallow. Didn't she conclude that it was a fake letter this morning?

"The questions I've asked you were just standard procedure," she continued cheerfully. "The task of keeping this party without casualties will be a bit challenging in itself. Having noted that tonight's ball will be a masquerade, it will be harder to keep an eye on anyone suspicious. Therefore I must insist of setting up a few rules and boundaries…"

Lucia raised a skeptical eyebrow."What kind of boundaries?" she voiced.

The detective girl placed her hands behind her back and started circling the dining table, like a lioness stalking her prey. "A full facial mask is out of the question," she almost seemed to purr."It would be too convenient for our serial killer to sneak in and use such a mask to keep his identity a secret from us. None of you, nor our guests, are allowed to wear one. I need the servants to be strict at the entrance. Anyone entering with a mask that covers their entire face, must turn it in at the entrance en proceed the masquerade without one."

Lady Millina looked hesitant, turning her head to her husband. "Darling, didn't you have that silver mask especially made for…" she trailed, but stopped when he raised his hand to stop her flow or words. Sea-colored eyes focused on the detective girl.

"I will not wear it. I believe I have a mask somewhere that will meet with your conditions, detective," Keaton Callisford told her.

The blonde lifted her chin, the hint of a smile on the edges of her lips. "Even more important is the second rule I wish to bestow on you… I want to know where you are at any given time. I need to know exactly what clothes you are wearing and I forbid you to leave the ballroom unannounced."

Gillium smiled nervously. "…Pardon me and forgive me if I am mistaken… but it sounds like you're accusing one of us to be the culprit… Isn't asking us not to leave without permission, perhaps a little childish?" It was not just the lady that seemed to be concerned about this. One glance around the table was enough to confirm that her thoughts were shared. Gaillard and Lucia exchanged a hesitant glance and Millina worriedly stared at the detective girl.

This only caused the smile on her face to grow. "Oh, not at all…" she chuckled. "While the threat wasn't directed at one particular person, I do share a heavy responsibility of taking care of you. My wish is to keep you alive for tonight, that is all. It's challenging enough without you walking in and out."

The blue eyes of the writer clouded in doubt. Seconds passed in a tense silence, when Millina parted her lips… but then her husband rose from his seat and she fell silent. "I agree to these terms," he announced.

"Perfect. That is settled then," the red-eyed girl detective replied. The owner of the castle has given his approval. Ironically, it didn't matter what the rest of them thought now. This was already a closed deal.

* * *

Her steps echoed through the empty ballroom as she wandered off by herself, leaving him to carry the heavy ladder by himself. Of course. He should have expected that when she asked him to retrieve it.

"Right here should be fine," she then told him with a far too innocent-looking smile on her face. Did she really expect him to fall for that?

"It's really heavy, you know," he panted, using every muscle in his body to lift the object a few feet closer. He was almost there… almost.

She placed her hand in the side of her hip. "Then you'd better grow a backbone soon, Len, because we have seven more chandeliers to search," was her helpful advice.

He narrowed his eyes, annoyed with her cold behavior and for a moment, he considered letting her _try_ carrying the heavy object by herself. She needed his help as his 'assistant' just as much as he needed to write this story.

"You lied to them." He moved the ladder in place and unfolded it, relieved to have a break from the labour. "You don't want to keep an eye on them, because they're your responsibility. You want to keep an eye on them, because you're convinced that one of them is the culprit."

The detective girl radiated a certain arrogance in her stance, lifting her chin and folding her arms together. "I have my reasons for suspecting them," she then confirmed.

Len heaved a sigh. "I know that you're thinking that the culprit is among them, but even if you can prove that one of those candles was used to seal the fake letter… The culprit could still be one of the servants."

"Yes, that is true," she admitted. "It would be irresponsible to disregard the servants, especially this early in the investigation." She placed her hand on the rung, looking up to her destination high above. The individual pieces of crystal sparkled brightly, even in the semi-darkness of the room. "I'll keep an eye out. But call it intuition, I guess."

She located her foot on the first step of the ladder.

The firm grip on her arm made her pause. "Hold – wait," he called out, making her turn her head. "It's too high– I don't want you climbing it."

Different colored-eyes stared back at him. "Huh…." She mused. "You're easily worried, aren't you?" she uttered, raising her eyebrow at him. "Either way, you're being childish. Release me at once."

Blue eyes flared in restrained anger. "It's dangerous," he countered. "It's too high and the ladder isn't – You're just not going to climb it. I won't let you."

"Then_ you_ tell me how I should investigate this chandelier," she then countered. "I need to reach the ceiling and I don't have wings growing on my back, you know."

"I know," he beamed, nodding solemnly at her statement. "I'll climb it."

This only seemed to irritate the detective girl as she narrowed her eyes at him. "Definitely not," she coldly stated.

"I'm serious!" he exclaimed. "I can do this - "

"_So can I_," she interrupted. "I'm not helpless, despite of what you might think."

When he parted his lips to counter this, she slapped her hand in front of his mouth. He tensed when she leaned in, her face too close to his. "Listen, if you really want to help out, steady the ladder for me," she told him, before releasing her grip on him.

The writer hesitated and she took that wavering moment to move along. With only five steps, the wooden ladder was already starting to shake. He quickly complied, clutching it tight. He bit the inside of his cheek restlessly when she climbed higher, completely unfazed by the danger. "Why, look at that!" she laughed, once she reached the top. "We might not have to search seven more chandeliers."

"Great," he flatly told her. "Now climb back down."

"Someone doesn't sound very enthusiastic," she commented loudly. She leaned back, glancing down at him. He flinched, feeling the ladder move when she shifted her weight. "You should be delighted, Len! This brings us closer to the culprit."

His frown only deepened. "I mean it," he claimed. "Come down."

To his abhorrence, she merely send him a childlike smirk.

"Wait – what are you doing!?" he shouted. She was stepping onto the second top rung, with only her knees to keep her balance. Her free arms moved towards the chandelier, reaching for the candle at the far back.

"No – stop. Come down right now!" he shouted up.

But she paid him no mind as her right foot reached the top rung. "In a second," she replied. Her hand reached for the candle with only her left ankle to bring support to a wavering stability. Fingers stretched out. He felt his heart drop when she nearly slipped forward that moment, clutching part of the chandelier to keep her balance, accidentally breaking off a piece of crystal that crashed right next to the ladder.

…That was _it_.

She steadied herself just in time to grasp the candle and the triumphed smirk that framed her face, only lasted for an instant. She managed to take a hold of the top rung with her hand, before she realized that something was amiss. The stability of the ladder disappeared… The sound of wood protesting along with his steps, made her heartbeat accelerate, alarmed by the clear warning signals. "Len, stop acting immature and climb back down right now!" she ordered him, glaring down at his ascending figure.

"_No_." His voice cut through the air, the determination in his narrowed eyes reaching her even through the broad distance. The ladder shook wilder the higher he climbed and even though he was aware of this, his desire to reach her was stronger than his fear of falling down. "You're coming down _right now_."

Her eyebrows frowned, looking uneasy as she stared back down at him. She did not attempt to move and the young man grew frustrated. The ladder started to shake more uncontrollably, almost tilting as he climbed faster. He wanted to close the distance between them as quickly as possible.

"Wait – stay there," she called out, feeling the wood shake underneath her.

"Come here," he commanded instead, reaching his hand out to her.

"No," she glared back, locking her grip on the rung. "Climb back down first!"

He gritted his teeth, the frustration reflected into a heated glare. The wood objectively creaked as he took another step. Her eyes flashed when he grabbed hold of her ankle. "Stop being stubborn!"

Angrily, she tried to shake him off. "I'm being stubborn!?" she yelled at him. "You're endangering us both! Get down and hold the darn ladder! It can't take both our w-.."

Her fingers twitched and her breath caught into her throat. In a second that seemed to last for an eternity, she slowly saw his blue eyes widen. She barely had time to part her lips and no words of warnings could be uttered.

The loud crash send a deafening echo through the ballroom.

For a moment, it was as if time stood still. There was only silence and the shock of the painful crash kept them both from moving. Her face was pressed firmly against his chest, his arms were still wrapped around her frame. In the last two seconds, he had managed to catch her and press her close against him. She had fallen on top of him and he had taken most of the hit.

She took a shaky breath, raising her head and staring back at him with two widened eyes. She blinked numerous times, her face pale and her lips parted. She seemed shaken when her eyes met his and for a moment he thought she looked… concerned. But reality quickly showered down on him and when she pulled herself up, the anger and resentment quickly returned in her eyes. The words she muttered weren't a kind 'thank you for catching me' or 'you look hurt, are you alright?' Instead they formed: "It's your own fault."

He shot her a foul look. He'd at least expected a little bit of compassion, but she was as brutal as always. He slowly tried to lift himself up, but the sudden sharp pain in his left shoulder made him wince, his hand instantly clutching it. "You're… welcome," he panted quietly as he sat up straight. The fall had knocked most air out of his lungs.

Two different colored eyes stared down at him, distant and cold. "Can you move it?"

He nodded, responding by moving his shoulder. A fracture was unlikely, but he could be expecting the largest bruise by tomorrow.

"Great," she voiced, monotonously. "We still have to investigate the entire food and drink supply. If you had broken anything, I would only pity your own senseless idiocy. But since you have become my assistant in this investigation, it is an inconvenience that could slow it down."

His teeth clenched together. Damn that hurts. Both physically and mentally. He didn't expect any help, so he was surprised when she held out her hand. Still irritated at her cruel response, he didn't take it. Something flicker in those different colored eyes that looked down on him. She forcefully grabbed his hand instead and with strength he had never expected from her tender built, she lifted him up.

"Don't you ever do anything as careless as that again," she warned him, before stepping away. He was groaning out of pain and frustration, forced to follow her towards the door. She was such a vexatious girl.


	4. Chapter 04 - The Whisper

Chapter 04 - The Whisper

"Wait, when did you get your hands on the keys?"

Just a few minutes ago, the butler had requested them to lock all the first-floor rooms in preparation for the masquerade. While he understood the reason behind it – guests do have the tendency to wander off – he could not comprehend why he had asked this from the detective girl. At least, not until it became evident that she had the entire set of keys in her possession.

"I demanded them," she simply replied, closing and locking another door.

He raised his eyebrow at that. "…When? I was with you the whole time."

She smiled at him. "No, you weren't. You were sleeping."

For a moment, he could only blink. "Wait, this morning? You already went inside?"

She nodded. "Well, you _were_ drooling rather soundly, besides…"

"Detective, there you are."

The low voice turned Len's head, stopping when the detective girl paused their conversation. She met the tall man with a produced smile on her face, greeting the person that hired her with convincing respect. "Mr. Callisford, what can I do for you?" she asked sweetly.

He did not mimic her fabricated exchange of pleasantries, sea-colored eyes glancing at him before resting at the young girl. There was a stressed frown on his face and for a moment, his lips parted as if he wanted to reply… but was distracted by something on her face. At least, that is what it looked like from Len's perspective. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to tell why he was staring that intensely at her from this close a distance.

"Mr. Callisford, however skilled I am, I cannot read thoughts. Is something a matter?" the detective girl asked.

For a moment, the man seemed to be taken aback. "Now I see…It is your hair…"

The writer had seen the change in the detective girl's expression. Her eyes had widened and her shoulders had tensed for just the fabric of a second. But she gave the man in front of her a large smile, as if he had just given her a compliment. "Do excuse my appearance," she told him. "I did not have the time to wash it after receiving your phone call."

"…I believe," he then slowly responded. "…Perhaps we could speak more privately?"

This caused Rin to momentarily shift her gaze to the writer. "More privately, you ask?"

Len did not bother hiding his dislike for that plan. It was too much of a risk to share a private conversation with one of the possible suspects. And he could not exactly explain why, but this man had a certain coldness around him he just didn't like. "…Is my presence bothering you?" he voiced.

Keaton's sea-colored eyes now shifted to him, light irritation visible in them. "I believe it is in the detective's best interest," he stated. Ah, so the feeling was mutual.

"Her best interest?" Len repeated, already feeling restrained anger flare up inside him. "What would you know about– "

"Enough." The detective girl looked at him sternly, ordering his mouth shut with just one word. "I won't leave the hallway. Stay here."

He clenched his notebook a little too tight. She was treating him like a nuisance. "…Fine."

Keaton Callisford placed his hand on the back of her frame and led the young detective to the other side of the hallway. Leaving him alone to sulk against the nearest wall. Watching the two of them from a distance, he could not make out the words that were being transferred in a hushed tone, but the sudden look of anger stricken across the detective girl's expression did pique his curiosity.

Then, a flash of orange in the corner of his eye distracted him.

There, behind the large of Mr. Callisford senior, stood the hesitating figure of Lady Millina's close friend. Her eyebrows were knitted together and her lips were pressed into a thin line. Her light-colored green eyes took frequent glances towards the pair that were whispering at the end of the hallway, but it was clear that when their eyes met, it was him she was trying to approach. She beckoned him silently.

"…What are you doing over there," he asked, not even sure why he was keeping his own voice down. She pulled his arm once he was close enough, raising her finger to her lips. They were both hiding in a cramped spot now. "I do not want to be seen…" she whispered.

"By the detective girl?" he had to ask, raising his eyebrow at her.

She quickly shook her head. "No, no…" she protested. "By Keaton. You see, I…"

"_Len?!_"

He almost sighed at the loud call from across the hallway. Nothing escapes that detective, not even a split second of disappearance. She could already hear her approaching steps onto the carpet. For a moment, Gillium Noverin looked incredibly insecure, nervously glancing around. "I can't let him…" she whispered softly.

"Right here!" he didn't hesitate to call back, causing the lady to flinch. He needed to let the detective know where he was, no matter if this lady wanted something different.

"Ah." Her frowned expression gave way for a hint of amusement. The detective girl shamelessly leaned against the statue, watching the both of them in renewed interest. "How cozy this seems. Any reason for it?" she asked.

"I – eh – well," the girl stuttered immediately. "You see, I was kind of… I was…"

"…Where did he go?" the writer asked instead, noticing Mr. Callisford's absence.

"We talked. He left," Rin replied indifferently.

The lady's shoulders loosened most of its tension. Taking a step away from her, he looked the detective girl straight in the eye. "Is there anything I need to pen down?"

"No," she met him with a mysterious smile. "That will not be necessary."

The young lady with hair that synchronized the color of spring leaves, wrapped her own arms around her. "It is not… we did not purposely appear intimate… I just…"

The detective girl glanced at him before stepping closer, forcing the lady to meet her eyes with a firm grip on her chin. "I could not care less," she declared. "What I want to know is what you were willing to tell my assistant just now."

Len's eyes widened and the girl's cheeks flushed a deep red.

"I…" Gillium blinked numerous times. "I… was… I need… I…"

"You obviously came here to tell him something, so spit it out," she demanded.

His hand firmly clasped around her wrist, forcing her to release the lady's face. Annoyance flared across the detective's expression. "Not only are you acting unnecessarily rude, how do you expect any information out of her with an attitude like that?" Len glared at her, before releasing her. "Can't you see she's troubled? She came to me, because you were already part of another conversation."

An icy laughter, void from any amusement, rang through the hallway. "Ah, is that so?" she expressed. "I do apologize for misunderstanding! Since I am most incapable of sharing normal conversations, I have no choice but to step back and let you take the lead."

He frowned disapprovingly at her. "Don't act this – "

Her round eyes stared back at him. "Childish?" she filled in. "No, I am merely promoting you. Please perform this interrogation by yourself." There was a strange gleam in her eyes. "Go ahead and play the part of the detective… I am sure you'll do well."

He tensed.

"Wait…" Gillium's voice wavered. "I am here because I searched for you both. I want, no, what I need to tell you..." She stared at her hands, fumbling them together. "I…"

"Don't keep us waiting," the detective girl warned her.

Len ignored her for a moment and focused on the nervous young woman who he needed to reassure. "We might be able to prevent a crime from happening," he said to her. "If there is anything you know… Anything at all."

Gillium nodded. "I- I know that, that is why… I... I do not know who send that letter… or if the information I have is relevant… but I really want you to catch the criminal before it is too late… I want to know that I did everything to prevent it."

He nodded sternly. The green-haired lady avoided the gaze of the detective girl and spoke directly to him instead. "This castle has belonged to the Callisford family for decades," she began. "It has been used as a wedding gift that is handed down from son to son…" She bit her lip, taking a breath before continuing. "…If a Lady has given birth to more than one son, these grounds are given to the firstborn…"

"That didn't happen, did it?" the detective girl quickly concluded.

Her green eyes flashed over her anxiously, before locking eyes with Len once more. "The previous Lady… had trouble keeping her unborn children…" she stated sadly. "She and her husband were older when she managed to give birth to her sons. Gaillard had a fiancée, but she died just a month before the wedding because of pneumonia. He refused to marry another lady for years and by the time he had fallen in love with his wife Lucia, his parents were no longer alive to watch the ceremony. Since the castle had always been transferred as a wedding gift… and Keaton had already married before they passed away… Well…"

"I see…" Len muttered, folding his arms together. "He used it as a way to obtain these grounds, despite his position as the second son."

The lady nodded, her eyes fixated on the ground. "Even though they set aside their differences, I have heard that their relationship had become strained… Now when I watch them together, they both remain distant…" she spoke. "I need you… to stop this murder. I cannot bear the thought of… my friend left as a widow."

Len gently held her hand and smiled. "Thank you very much for being brave. We will try to prevent any murder from happening, I promise." The young woman was flustered and spluttered a small: "You're welcome…" before turning away. This was obviously something she had shared in secret. Staying longer would heighten the risk of getting caught and now that they had the information out of her, her presence was no longer required. The detective girl followed his gaze, watching the young woman disappear around the corner.

"My, what a performance," her voice rang quietly behind him. "The act of 'knight in shining armor' was flawless."

"…Do you even _want_ to prevent this murder?" he sighed deeply, running his hand through his bangs.

"_Do_ _you_?" Her tone was what made him stiffen. Turning his head, blue eyes glanced behind his shoulder, meeting the contrasting colors of her vibrant irises. "Mr. Writer," her low feminine voice rang. "What you need is a front page article. What I need is the conviction of a murderer. We both have selfish motivations, so let us not pretend that we are good people now."

He averted his gaze, breathing out a low sigh. "…That's horrible."

"If someone has to die in order for us to do our jobs, does that make us horrible, or just the work given to us?" she mused. "Sense of morality is rare nowadays."

"…I still…" he muttered then. "Dislike the thought of it."

She let out a long breath herself. "I would like to say that it makes you a hypocrite… but I can sort-of relate to that feeling." He looked up and she met him with such a desolate smile on her face, that he felt his heartbeat quicken at the sincerity of that expression. "Ah, if only reality would have endings similar to those of children's story books…" she told him.

"Saving everyone and capture the fair maiden's heart…" he trailed.

She laughed. "…How wonderfully dull that would be."

* * *

"…You didn't unpack."

That was the first thing he mentioned when they entered her guest bedroom. And looking at her messy, open suitcase in the middle of the room, she could only applaud him for his observation skills. "Keep that up and you can start doing my job," she replied, a hint of amusement visible in her sharp smile.

"So why did you want to come back here?" he asked her.

"Take a seat and we can discuss tonight's program," the detective girl said, directing him to one of the armchairs. He obliged but could not help but feel like there was more to it. Why else would she lead him back to the privacy of her guest bedroom?

He sank into the decorative flower-patterned armchair, looking up expectably. She didn't move to take a seat herself, opting to keep standing.

"My dearest assistant, tonight will be the night the culprit will show himself," she stated. "We need to be fully prepared for that moment."

"Will he though," Len begged to different. "He will try to keep a low profile and commit the murder discretely. He will hope to blend in with the crowd and strike when we let down our guards."

"Exactly," the detective girl nodded. "That is why we _won't_ let down out guard."

The writer folded his arms together, repressing the urge to sigh. "Too naïve," he declared. "Even you cannot keep your eyes and ears on everyone in the room. There are too many people and it only needs a minor distraction to avert attention."

"It all depends on the proper position," Rin countered.

"Even so, how are you planning to keep your eye on approximately seventy guests walking and dancing around?"

She looked down on him, parting her lips and taking a breath.

"No, you will lose this case if you do that," he interrupted immediately, causing the detective girl to stiffen. "You need to keep your eyes open for any possibility."

"Thank you for your concern, but I am well aware of that," she answered, placing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Besides, I already know exactly how we'll be able to keep an eye on our guests for tonight."

The writer had to be a little skeptic about that. "Is that so?" he asked. "And how might that be?"

Her different colored eyes almost seemed to contain a sparkle. "By blending in," she simply smiled.


	5. Chapter 05 - The Warning

Chapter 05 - The Warning

He lost her. How exactly did that happen?

They had entered the dining room together, joining the Callisford family and their acquaintances for dinner, but she had excused herself at the soup and never returned for the main course. He started to grow sincerely agitated when dessert arrived. The variety of speculations on her whereabouts in his thoughts alone were enough for him to lose his appetite and he excused himself off as well, deciding to look for her.

He searched every area they had been together; the kitchen to inspect the bottles of wine, the ballroom to investigate the chandeliers… He even went back to his own guest room to see if she had returned there. When there was not a single sign for the detective girl, he did not hesitate to expand his search area into more abandoned places. He could not tell why she would disappear on her own like that, by herself, on an evening where a murder was promised upon. She was being far too reckless.

He restlessly wandered through the hallways, opening every door he could open. Every single door on the first floor was locked and he found several locked doors in his search on the other floors as well. She did hold a set of keys, but she wouldn't have locked herself in, right?

He already knew it, but walking around the building did give one more perspective of its size… it was absolutely immense. He needed to keep his full attention to the direction he was following, or he would find himself lost.

Finally, on the side wing on the fourth floor, he stepped into a darker hallway. Curtains were still closed, keeping natural light from entering through the windows. There was only silence around him and he could frown at the thick atmosphere this abandoned hallway radiated… but this was one of the last places he could still check.

Not one of the doors was locked and he found out that most of the rooms were used for storage. It explained why this area of the castle seemed to receive less visitors.

When his hand turned the last doorknob, the smallest sound made him pause. A soft step onto a thick carpet that did not belong to him. Right behind him.

"Milady," he exhaled. It took him a second to realize that he should be releasing her. The wrist he had grabbed tightly, belonged to Lucia Callisford-Vincostre.

Her sky blue eyes held both suspicion and surprise, taking her hand back and clutching it. "You are quite jumpy," her low voice almost seemed to accuse.

"Well, for a moment I was afraid that I would be tonight's victim," Len stated in response. "…You did sneak up on me."

He hadn't noticed this at the dining table, but the lady with the color of cherry-blossom painted in her hair, was almost a full head taller than him. She easily towered over him, looking down at him. Her eyes were as cold as the detective girl's and her eyes held the same judgment. "You left halfway through dinner," she voiced. "And now you are searching through every room like that. You are quite suspicious, boy."

She was obviously a few years older than him, but he still felt insulted by the degrading word. "I'm searching for my employee," he stated. "And so far I haven't f–"

"That weird girl?" she interrupted him. She apparently didn't feel the need to keep her opinion to herself. "Well, you won't find her here, or anywhere else in the castle."

Maybe it was simply his dislike for this lady that made him question her choice of words. "…What do you mean?" he asked.

"That you can turn this place upside down, but… you will never find her," she smiled.

He felt his heart leap in his chest and suddenly he was aware of how suspicious this lady's appearance in the hallway was. While he had come here to search for the detective girl, he could just about place a bet that she didn't come here to find someone. "What did you do to her?" he snarled.

The lady seemed surprised by his defensive stance and chuckled softly. When she moved his arm, he thought that she was going to hit him. But instead, she pat his head gently. "Aren't you cute?" she said. "Like a puppy, you are, trying to protect the hand that feeds you..."

He bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes. "I'll give you five seconds to state her exact location."

"When you look at me like that, you make it feel like I am the one responsible for her disappearance," Lucia sighed. "I am not. Stop being stiff like that, she is perfectly fine. I passed her on her way outside. I believe that she is in the garden."

He let out a long breath. "…You could have just told me."

"I did not think you would be that loyal," Lucia responded, her sharp blue eyes watching him. "You seem like a good kid. I want you to watch your back."

"_Why?_" he voiced. "Are you threatening me?"

Her gaze was harsh. "No," she replied. "I am wary of your owner…"

Wary of the one person that was hired to solve the mystery? Well, he had to admit that Rin was certainly something different. With her random laughter, her lack of compassion, her sharp attitude and her judging eyes, she did not seem to be too concerned with the image she presented. That people would start to get cautious of her, seemed something unavoidable. But… actually finding her suspicious?

The sky-blue eyes of the lady then seemed to soften and she almost seemed to pity him. "I would like _you_ to stay alive at the very least…" she mumbled.

He felt his pulse quicken that instant. Lucia's piercing blue eyes stared into his, her gaze lingering for a moment. They held knowledge, information… He parted his lips, but no words left his throat. He had so many questions, yet none at all.

After all… didn't he already know who she was talking about?

He flinched when her hand touched the top of his head once more, before turning away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He did not call after her. She had given him a warning just now, to stay on his guard about the detective girl.

It confirmed the suspicion he had uttered towards Rin in the carriage this morning.

That the young woman… the previous assistant of the detective girl…. did not just simply disappear.

* * *

The grounds around the castle rivaled the building in size, but the detective girl had been surprisingly easy to find. Surrounded by the green bushes and red roses, her blonde hair stuck out like a lost dandelion.

Somehow, it made sense for her to have hidden herself in the rose garden area. It was the first place he visited. It just seemed to suit her more than the apple trees or the grape ranks. He could not entirely explain why, but it was a feeling he just had.

He stepped beside her, but she didn't seem surprised by his presence. In fact, at first glance he wasn't sure if she'd noticed him at all. She did not look up or acknowledge him in any way. The darkening sky casted a shadow on the garden, making his presence less obvious. The sun had already set and it started to get colder. Night was about to fall.

Surprisingly delicate, the blonde girl held one of the perfectly bloomed roses, stroking its petals softly. He noticed that she didn't wear her detective hat or cape. It didn't take him long to notice that the two lied abandoned on the grass. With a cold wind blowing, he couldn't imagine why she'd taken them off in the first place, but he wouldn't complain about it. Right now, she looked very peaceful.

"…Dinner already finished?" she spoke softly, her eyes still set on the red rose.

He took a step closer to her, lightly touching her shoulder, before asking: "Why did you leave me behind… I was worried about you."

She closed her eyes for a moment, both of her hands folding around the rose, as if she was embracing it. "…The masquerade will start in an hour…" the girl whispered in the open air.

In that dress, in the semi-darkness of the evening, he felt a feeling stir in his chest.

He had not forgotten the warning and it had occupied his thoughts on his way here. But right now, her presence seemed to relax him. He couldn't help but feel at ease when she looked so vulnerable in the night sky. With little time left to the masquerade he wondered… did she come here to calm her nerves?

"Do you like roses?" he asked softly.

She finally met his gaze. A graceful smile appeared on her face, soft, warm and full of light."I love them," she whispered, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek against one. "They smell nice, they look beautiful… and only sting when you try harm them."

He felt himself exhale softly. In this garden, he lost himself in her eyes. He had the feeling he finally… understood her. Even though she got on his nerves a lot, there were short moments like this, where she felt… more than just the 'red-eyed detective'. She felt like a young lady, burdened by a heavy and dangerous job. It was as if she was showing him her true nature, one that was normally hidden away between thick layers of self-protection.

In this peaceful garden, with that beautiful smile on her face, the words and warnings of Lady Lucia were easily forgotten.

In an impulse, the young man wrapped his arms around the detective girl. She froze in his hold. The side of her cheek was pressed against his chest and with each passing second, she could hear his heartbeat. She didn't look up, nor did she move away. Parting her lips, it took a few moments for her to find her voice. "…Why are you doing this?" came the low whisper.

"For you…" His tone was soft and warm and he realized that he was trying to calm the young woman down. She was stiff in his arms and without doubt, uncomfortable. He closed his eyes for a moment and wished that he had the ability to make her adapt to this. The words almost left his mouth before he could stop himself. "You are…"

Realizing his mistake, the sentence died away in the wind. There was a long moment of silence in which he wished she wouldn't ask upon it. But, she was the detective girl, wasn't she?

"Am… what?" she asked him. There was sincere curiosity in her voice.

It took him a while to find the right words for his next sentence. "Nervous," he finally responded, his grip slacking, aware that he had to let her go now. "For the masquerade," he quickly added.

Now that his embrace had loosened, she took the initiative to take a step back. She tilted her head and locked her eyes with him. Her eyes were large and he saw the confusion in them disappear into understanding. "Ah… I see…" she muttered. "You were the nervous one, weren't you?" she exclaimed."You could have told me that you wanted to settle your own nerves."

He averted his gaze and smiled at the roses. Silently, he plucked a single petal off a rose. He admired the dark red color, a color symbolizing both love and war. He blew against the petal and it danced in the air. He could see her eyes following the petal, as it disappeared between the bushes.

"You know…" he started, his fingertips brushing against the same rose she had taken interest in before. "You were the one being careless this time."

"Careless?" she repeated, gazing at him with interest. That beautiful smile she wore sharpened and there everything innocent about her presence faded into an expression he was more familiar with. "How was I careless?" she questioned.

He now regretted bringing the subject up in the first place. He did not think that he would need to elaborate on it. But here she was, already staring at him as if he had issued her a challenge and she wouldn't allow him to back out of this now. "…I mean, at your detective agency," he started, recalling how she had been waiting for him behind the door. "You told me that I would have died if you had carried a weapon on you. That I let down my guard too much."

"Oh," she mentioned, folding her arms to let her digit rest thoughtfully on her chin. "Is that how you feel? That I am being too careless around you?" she mused.

He could not help but frown at her amused expression. "You know I don't… I just want you to realize that the things you do are often unnecessarily reckless. Like climbing that ladder, or yes, even talking to me in an abandoned garden. What if I did carry a weapon with me and wanted to harm you?" he asked.

She suddenly grinned and her eyes sparkled. "The likeliness was small."

He felt silent, his parted lips closing.

"Do not underestimate me. I calculate everything beforehand," she stated, patting him on the shoulder, before stepping away from him and reaching for her belongings.

He turned around in surprise and a small laugh escaped his lips. "I guess you're right," he had to admit.

With one swift movement, she threw the cape around herself and secured it. She then reached for her hat and placed it upon her short blonde hair.

"I believe it's time for the last preparations, or we will be late," she said, turning around to face him. "The masquerade will start in an hour." The sweetness had left her voice. He knew that she was once again the detective and he was her assistant. They knew the roles they played well and the distance that belonged to them. He wouldn't not openly complain about it. Right now, they had a job that needed to be accomplished. The time they had before the masquerade was quickly ticking away.


	6. Chapter 06 - The Masquerade

Chapter 06 - The Masquerade

The clock's hand pointed to a with gold decorated number eight. The castle's ballroom was already packed. Most of the guests had arrived early and despite the bad weather that had been predicted, it seemed like everyone invited had come. In the first half hour alone the Callisford family butler had crossed every name on the list and the detective girl was quick to verify this. While the butler accepted all the invitations, Lady Millina greeted each guest enthusiastically, thanking everyone for coming.

"She looks beautiful, doesn't she?" the detective girl commented slyly when he kept his gaze on the lady for longer than two seconds. He wanted to deny it, but knew that most of the crowd shared her opinion. With her long turquoise hair in soft, loose curls and an expensive pearl headdress and necklace, she eyed like a rare gem. The pure white decorative ball gown illuminated her appearance and the mask she wore only complimented her beauty. It framed her vibrant aquamarine eyes alone, but the simple silhouette of the mask was compensated with expensive pearls and crystals.

In her excitement, or perhaps even naiveté, she didn't seem to notice the foul glances from the ladies nor the lustful stares of the gentlemen.

"How wonderful to see you two dressed up," her soft voice cooed affectionately when she saw the chance to greet them. "Why, that mask looks absolutely stunning on you." The detective girl had to admit that the mask was indeed the strongest part of the entire outfit. Like golden thread it spun a decorative pattern around the eyes and most of the cheeks. One could say that it was almost a shame that blonde hair loosely fell on top of it; the lock of hair hid most of the left side of the mask as well. The dress that shared the same golden color, was simple, yet elegant and obviously made to match with it.

"Those sleeves and skirt certainly make your waist look small, dividing attention to the stronger points of your undeveloped body," Millina smiled gently.

She had stated that so casually that the detective girl nearly burst out laughing at the insulting compliment. At least it was meant as a praise.

"Ah I see and you are dressed as a servant tonight," the lady commented then. She glanced at the dark-blue pants and the matching waistcoat resting upon a clean crème-colored blouse. "They are a little big on you, aren't they; my butler's clothes? I don't mind you borrowing them, as long as you won't forget to return them afterwards."

This caused Len to raise his eyebrow at the detective girl. "You didn't ask her permission first?" he exclaimed.

"Not specifically," she casually replied.

The Lady stepped closer, her fingers wrapping around the blue tie that was knotted perfectly, but rested on the waistcoat instead of being tugged away. She quickly fixed that small error and smiled brightly. "There," she said. "A servant of mine should be properly dressed." She was enjoying this role-play a little too much. "I shouldn't have worn high heels though, I seem to be taller than you now." Her with lace gloved hand gently pinched the cheek of her undercover servant. "…Or did you shrink?" she teased. The way her eyes seemed to sparkle, the sharp curl of her smile… The detective girl hadn't given her enough credit, but this lady had the ability to see things others would overlook.

"This is already a success," Lady Lucia commented behind her, stepping into the conversation with two glasses of champagne in her hand.

People were entertaining themselves with alcohol and small-talk. The musicians had started playing a few minutes ago and a handful of couples had already entered the dance area. It was going very well. "This is a masquerade, please wear your mask," Millina commented gently, accepting the glass of champagne from her. "You will be anonymous and thus be allowed to dance with any man you please. Besides, it looks wonderful on you."

With a defeated sigh, Lucia covered half her face with her mask. It was a stunning silver mask, decorated with blue lines and crystals. It covered her eyes and part of her cheeks. There were feathers on both sides of the mask, framing her face. The dress she wore was light blue and had the same feathers. It was decorated with silver lines, making the mask and dress a perfect match. Her long hair was placed in a large complex bun, accentuating her creamy bare shoulders, something that was considered daring at such a high society party.

"Now everyone on the guest list has arrived," Len voiced.

"Yes," Lady Millina immediately acknowledged. "There were a number of guests that needed to take off their masks, but unfortunately that was something we could not avoid."

The detective girl locked eyes with the writer and nodded. "We won't keep you any longer," she told them. "Try to enjoy the party. We will be around if you need us."

"What are you planning to do now that everyone has arrived?" the writer asked then, following her. He wanted some clearance. She had been rather vague and evading when he asked her the details of her plan. She hadn't given him a proper explanation for dressing him up and her motivation behind her choice of disguise still remained unclear. Nonetheless, he had been mature enough to comply with her plan.

Out of her pocket then appeared the large set of keys and she gave him a scheming smile, handing the set to him. "I will give you the honor," she stated.

Now she was just teasing him. "The honor of what?" he had to ask.

"I suggest that you start paying attention. All of the guests have arrived and no one is expected to enter the castle any longer," she claimed. "If you had bothered to count the maids, you would know that every servant but the gardener and the chef are present in this ballroom. Oh. And the butler just now left as well… how convenient."

Len frowned at the set of keys. "I really cannot follow you sometimes. Will you please answer the question for once, instead of making your answers too cryptic to understand?" he asked her. "I'm beginning to think you're doing it on purpose."

"Don't be like that," the detective girl pouted. "I promoted you, haven't I?"

He took an immediate breath, one she cut off by clasping her hand on top of his. "Take the keys…" she explained. "And lock the doors."

His eyes widened at that, hesitating before leaning closer. "…You want to lock them up?" he tried to reaffirm. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I am very serious," the detective girl simply answered.

"No, no, wait," he stated, his fingers curling around hers. "There are more than seventy people inside; if they grow aware that they're locked up, panic will break out. And what if anything happens? If there is some kind of emergency and the doors are locked… then that murder won't be committed by the culprit you seek out."

She had to stiffen a chuckle, halfheartedly trying to mask it. "You really have a good sense of humor sometimes. I am talking about the servants, of course."

"You… want to lock up the servants," he slowly repeated. "…Yes, of course that makes a lot more sense."

"I dislike loose ties," she stated, as if it was something that simple. "The gardener and chef won't be in my line of sight for the entire evening and it is a butler's task to keep walking around. Why not take this opportunity to prove their innocence?"

"…By locking them up," he repeated. "Can't you see how wrong that is?"

She didn't seem fazed. "They will thank me afterwards."

Loudly, the musicians started the tune to a most familiar balled; the waltz. Since most of the guests had already exchanged formal pleasantries, it wasn't a surprise that most couples took this opportunity to start dancing.

"Wonderful distraction," she then announced. Closing the large white doors of the ballroom behind her, she pulled his hand and proceeded along. "After this, we will go our separate ways. You know your task. I will keep an eye on you, so you won't have to worry. If the culprit tries to snatch you away, I will step in and protect you." Her childlike smirk caused him to take her words only half-serious.

He sighed to himself. He could honestly not wait for this charade to end.

* * *

In the mix of dancing pairs, a pair of black heels clicked against the marble floor as the young adolescent slipped into the crowd, fulfilling part of this important duty by moving along the rhythm of the music. The golden-colored dress seemed to sparkle with each movement and it was difficult not to stand out wearing such a colorful outfit. But it was part of the assignment to be recognizable as the detective girl. That was the plan they had debated upon, a plan they both agreed to. Joining the dance was the indeed an effective way to keep a close eye on their suspects as long as they were on the dance floor.

It wasn't to find a dance partner either. After consuming at least one glass of wine, most single men had worked up enough courage to ask a lady of choice to dance. And enough time has already passed for couples to part from each other's side, now daring to dance with other available partners. The rules of the masquerade allowed them this, regardless if they were married, engaged or single.

As the music continued on, the blonde adolescent danced with several men, accidently missing a couple of steps in the beginning, but quickly learning from the mistakes. Be it young or old, it really didn't matter who initiated the next dance. Unless men and women were a couple, it wasn't proper to spend more than one dance with a partner anyway, unless there was a romantic interest. And most men quickly caught unto the clear lack of interest. Not that it bothered the blonde, who was too occupied to care. The culprit demanded enough attention.

Eyes momentarily shifted to the person that symbolized the other half of their strategy; the servant that was circling around the ballroom, carrying glasses of wine towards the guests. Blonde hair was neatly combed back into a short ponytail and bangs too short to be tied back fell unevenly in front of a friendly smiling face. Working together with a group of maids certainly opened a window of opportunity to watch those young girls closely as well.

Despite a few less fortunate experiences – one particular imbecile of a dance partner liked to step on shoes – it was the right decision to join the dance, as well as observe from the sidelines. That way they could observe the suspects from both angles; a well-thought-out strategy indeed.

Gaillard and Lucia were easily spotted; they have not moved from each other's side since they started dancing. Keaton Callisford stayed on the dance floor as well, but with a different dance partner during each song. Lady Gillium, in her colorful pink dress and matching mask, was asked to dance by several men and smiled brightly at the attention. Only Lady Millina was found at the sidelines, talking to a few other ladies over a glass of champagne.

Another song ended and another song started. But instead of being released to find a new dance partner, he kept their hands locked together: the young man with the simple mask that wore a kind smile. He had seemed average, from his height down to his brown eyes. He hadn't been worth a second glance, but yet here he was, purposely drawing attention back to him. "Would you care for a second dance, milady?" he asked, as his lips pressed against bare skin.

The blonde's eyes narrowed immediately, a murderous glint in those orbs."Get lost."

The cold response made the man tense, before carefully stepping away. The words were taken into account and the man left to find another dance partner. The young adolescent did not bother to do the same, feet now aching painfully for a break. How women would voluntarily put on these shoes was a mystery in itself. Wearing these for the first time was already a terrible experience, how would anyone wish to wear them daily?

"You look a bit uncomfortable," a low voice rang. The long purple hair and the sight of those same sea-colored eyes glistering behind a mask, unmistakably belonged to Gaillard Callisford. Without hesitation, he led the next dance the blonde hadn't even wanted to partake in. But since he had initiated this dance himself, curiosity easily gained the upper hand.

Through the eyes of the society around them, there was nothing wrong with this picture. It would just be a coincidence to share a dance with this particular lady.

However, staring in the intelligent blue eyes of the man, the realization grew that this was anything but a coincidence. Being recognized as the detective girl had its advantages if it was a way to obtain more information; wasn't that the whole point?

The words of Lady Gillium suddenly seemed to echo back. This was a man who lost everything to his younger brother through foul play. Who knew what this man was capable of? He was strong and broad enough to commit murder and seemed intelligent enough as well. However, appearances were often deceiving…

"I've been waiting for a chance to speak with you privately," he then spoke softly.

"You have? Why is that?" Being pushed closer made the blonde tense, the distance between them now of a couple's rather than two random dance partners. Only the promise of information kept hands from crawling towards the man's exposed throat.

Gaillard slowly leaned down to whisper: "Watch the Lady's friend closely."

"…Really?" Lady Gillium had warned them about this man, and now it was the exact way around. How amusing was that…

Sea-colored eyes narrowed slightly, a hesitating frown on his face. "My wife doesn't trust you," he continued. "I must say that I had my doubts about you as well. However, her conspiracy theories are a little farfetched. That young woman over there has more motive to commit murder than you do."

"…Continue," was the intriguing response.

The taller male leaned in once more. The music and voices around them would surely drown the low whisper of the older male. And the blonde held a breath when the information was transferred and sank in. "…You mean…" was voiced breathlessly.

"This was for your ears only," he explained, his eyes lingering for a moment more. The song had already ended and couples were starting to switch partners. It wasn't appropriate for them to dance more than one song and the tall male left in time with the soothing music.

Well… this was definitely interesting. Sharp eyes skimmed the ballroom and quickly spotted the figure at the sidelines. The undercover servant had been caught up in a conversation and had missed the exchange of information completely. The young dancer knew that it needed to be kept that way. Lips stretched in a knowing smile; perhaps this will be figured out later on, but for now, this information will not be shared with anyone else. Having fun was an important reason for being here; making these things too easy would be too dull for the detective girl.

* * *

The blonde servant returned a smile to the lady who took one of the glasses from the silver plate. There were other maids walking around to serve the guests with alcohol, but women often bluntly ignored them, wishing to be served by the only male servant.

Being a servant had seemed like the perfect opportunity to work from the shadows, but the female population seemed to disagree. Most of the ones that did not join the waltz, would at least try to start a conversation. While a mere servant of the Callisford family should not dare to object, this remained an undercover job. Despite their creative attempts to keep the youth from leaving, they were always left by themselves after a couple of minutes. There was no time to stand still and the blonde would not be distracted.

Circling around the ballroom had worked wondrous so far; none of them had been out of sight for longer than a couple of minutes.

"Oh, young man, come over here, sweetie!"

It was sometimes challenging not to roll eyes at some of the ladies that demanded service. The women that called out with a nickname or with an evident slur in their voices were often touchy; something that went unappreciated. And this lady creatively combined the two, making her both drunk and flirtatious. Pretending not to hear her was the easiest solution. She really didn't need another glass of wine.

Repositioning the stray locks of hair, the servant eased the feeling of annoyance by watching the golden figure within the dancing crowd. Ah, it was only a matter of time before that man would initiate a dance. He had tried to woo every woman he danced with so far.

"You are watching her closely as well, I see," Lady Lucia commented, her low voice carrying a hint of resentment.

Eyes shifted to the cherry-blossom haired female. "I wouldn't dare keeping my eyes off her," the servant smiled. "I don't want her to run off without me."

The lady knitted her eyebrows together in a frown, before taking the silver plate with both hands. Not permitting any sound of protest, she placed it down on the nearest table. "She is dancing the night away, while letting you carry wineglasses around," she stated. "It is ridiculous for her to have fun while you have to do all the work."

"I have to disagree with you," the servant replied. "We are both carrying out our jobs in a different way. She is working just as hard as I am."

The older female fought to repress a sigh. "I see your loyalty is hard to break." She then reached for a glass of wine on that plate and started sipping on it. "Ask Millina for a dance," she commented quietly.

"What, why?" the blonde immediately objected.

"_Because_," she loudly claimed, clenching the wineglass a little tight as blue eyes coldly gazed at the dancing crowd. "She will need the distraction."

Following the lady's gaze was enough to grow aware of the situation. "…Oh," was the only response that could be uttered. It was tempting to pity Lady Millina, even without knowing the details of the matter. "How long already?"

"Too long. Dance with her," Lucia repeated once more. "I never told you this."

The servant nodded quietly, forfeiting the plate and stepping towards the lady in the beautiful white dress. Since observing her had been part of their task to begin with, the blonde was aware that a number of men had already asked her for a dance. She had politely turned every offer down, but the smile she gave them grew bitter over time. "…I was asked to offer you a dance."

Millina blinked, her deep aquamarine eyes holding confusing as she stared back.

"But I have the feeling that you will turn me down as well."

Her shoulders were tense and her gaze averted when she answered. "I do love these kind of parties…" Her tone had a hint of sadness in it.

The young servant gently placed a hand on her arm. She stirred, but did not move away. Her eyes met the color of blue in a quick glance, before looking down once more. " …I just wanted…" The whisper was barely hearable above the sharp violin sound.

Only a soft sigh could be expressed at the following silence. The lady seemed ready to burst out in tears at any given moment. "I know. I understand," was replied, hoping that the lady would listen to comforting words.

Millina then parted her lips, taking a small breath. "You know, I…"

"Mommy, mommy!" The high pitched voice cut through the conversation as a young girl ran towards them on her bare feet, carrying a proud smile on her face. Her brown hair was no longer divided by two pigtails and hang loosely past her shoulders. The child took hold of the edges of her long white nightgown and twirled around. "I look just like you now!" she exclaimed. Her brown eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked up at her mother in the hopes of receiving a praise. But the aquamarine eyes of the lady, filled with unshed tears, only stared down at the girl that had snuck out of her bedroom, stiffening at her appearance. "…Why is she out of bed?"

People who watched the scene chuckled in amusement and continued on with their conversations, completely unaware of how this particular scene could create a ripple that could bring forward disaster. Millina seemed to understand; she lost more color with each passing second. "She can't be here. She just can't be here," she expressed. "Why is she here? Why is no one with her!?"

Large, doe-like eyes looked up to her mother and the servant fell silent. There were only a handful of people in this room that could understand her panic. There was a threat to commit murder and the mere thought of their child in danger would make any mother lose composure.

"Why is no one taking care of that – "

"Julie!" Arms wrapped around the small frame of the little girl, the surprise causing her to break into a fit of giggles. "Hello there! Why are you out of bed?" Gillium Noverin asked.

"Bathroom. I couldn't find Hanna to take me," the girl answered.

"Well, the maids are a little busy at the moment…" For a moment, light-colored green eyes glanced at them, before putting the little girl down and ruffling her already messy hair. "I can take her upstairs for you," she offered to her friend.

Millina shook her head. "No," she stated. "I will bring her myself."

"Absolutely not," the servant cut in. "Neither of you is allowed to leave the ballroom."

Aquamarine eyes narrowed. "Ridiculous. She can't stay. I won't allow such a thing."

"Len," Gillium then called quietly. "Can you not bring her? While I fully understand that none of us are allowed to leave, perhaps you can – ?"

"I have to stay here." the blonde stiffly responded. "I can't afford to leave either."

The teal-haired lady grasped the hand of her daughter tight. "Fine," she stated coldly. "If you refuse to cooperate, I will have to ask that detective for permission."

The logic of that decision was hard to argue with, but the servant clutched the hem of her white dress tightly anyway, forcing the lady to turn back her attention. "Please listen to me for your own safety. Do not leave this ballroom."

Something flickered in those aquamarine eyes and the two of them exchanged a lengthy glance. Perhaps it was the determination in that sentence that caused the lady to pause, or perhaps it was something that could only be understood between the two of them. But in the end, it did not matter. Millina shook her head and pulled away.

The blonde sighed. "Please don't make me regret this decision…"

Gillium's head turned and her green eyes contained curiosity, but the servant did not linger to answer any questions.

* * *

"Here. We need your help as well." The bucket of water and soap was almost thrown in the hands of the undercover servant, liquid spilling around the edges. The start of a protest was silenced with a stern look of those icy blue eyes. "I'm sorry, but the faster this is cleaned up, the faster _we_ can get back to work as well," she stated, waving some of her lengthy platinum-blonde locks back. The servant glanced down at the decorative flower pinned to the uniform and recalled her name; one identical to the flower she was wearing. When she turned to another maid, the youth planted the heavy bucket firmly on the ground. This was an absolute disaster. Millina had been gone for a while now and their suspects had left to the hallway with the other guests. Who knew that alcohol that would be the main cause for this disorder? Not even the shimmering color of gold had been visible for the last ten minutes. Everyone that should be in a direct line of sight, was no longer there.

It was silly, simple and childish. Guests that drank more alcohol then they could handle had danced and flirted around inappropriately. Partners that had become jealous initiated the loud arguments that flared up within the dance floor. Keeping an eye on the Callisford family and their acquaintances became rather challenging, but once a man hit another man for dancing with his betrothed twice, everything escalated. There was no telling when or where everyone was once the wineglasses were picked up and thrown around. The shattered glass frightened the guests and this caused more and more people to get involved. When the two that started the fight were eventually overpowered by a group of men, the damage had already been done. Half the ballroom was covered in glass and liquid.

Gaillard Callisford was the one that stepped forward and apologized for the situation. Calmly, he asked the guests to remain in the hallway until everything was cleaned up, promising that it would only take a couple of minutes. Despite of that, a large number of guests had decided to leave early and it was impossible to know who had stayed and who had already left. Not to mention that all of the maids – including the servant – were forced to clean up the mess by themselves. Alone.

At least all twelve maids were in the ballroom at the present time, but that did not lift the blonde's sullen mood. Being forced to pick up glass and mob while their suspects could be absolutely anywhere, was enough to scrub the floor in an aggressive manner. It did not take long before the already small amount of patience ran out and the alcohol-soaked cloth was thrown hastily at the floor. This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. There were far more important thing to do.

Raising from the floor and wiping wet hands dry at the side of the overly large cotton pants, the blonde maid immediately reacted to the lack of labour. "Where are you going?" she asked, or more like demanded.

"I need to be somewhere else," the youth responded.

The woman placed the bucket of water in her hands down, her heels clicking against the marble as she crossed the dance floor. "Listen, I know that you really aren't part of our team, but you will blow your cover if you waltz out of this room. Besides, we-"

The ground shook and it was as if something exploded in the room; its deafening crash loud enough to shake every individual currently inside the castle. The shatter of a hundred crystals clattered through the ballroom and pieces of crystal flew in every thinkable direction.

Curling shaking fingers around the woman's shoulders, the servant took a deep breath. "Are-are you alright?" The maid, whose whole body was trembling, nodded quietly. The both of them had lost their balance when the chandelier crashed right behind her. If she had not taken that last step, they would have had to clean up the mess of a trampled flower.

"Oh my God!"

The first cry of abhorrence was expressed and that initiated a chain reaction. In a matter of seconds, a crowd formed around them and hands started to seize them up. Some of the guests that had been talking in the hallway, had come bursting in when they heard the crash and it were the hands of those men that lifted them up.

"Lily, Lily!" the quivering voice of another maid cried out when she pulled the blonde woman in a tight hug. Her hair was snow-white and her chestnut-colored eyes were filled with tears. "Oh thank God! Thank God you are alright!"

Feeling a sudden sharp pull, the young adolescent flinched. "_Len_," a familiar voice panted. Worried sky-blue eyes stared back and the youth nearly breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the cherry blossom-haired female. "Are you alright?" Lucia asked him, tightening her grip in an attempt to bring out a response. "You aren't hurt?"

Her husband was standing right next to her, but his narrowed grey-blue eyes were focused on the broken chandelier instead, eyeing the large crack in the marble floor. "That was a close one," Gaillard then expressed. "If this room had not been evacuated…"

Lucia raised her head. "Multiple casualties would have followed," she quietly finished.

The young adolescent looked upwards to the ceiling of where the object had fallen from… and tensed when it became evident which chandelier had almost caused a person's death.

"Meanwhile, that detective is nowhere in sight," Lucia's voice rang.

It was the one chandelier they had investigated together.


End file.
